


No Colors

by AwkwardMirae



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Other, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:40:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28987959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwkwardMirae/pseuds/AwkwardMirae
Summary: Doyoung doesn't know how the world is still working when he lost his everything and himself.Nothing has colors anymore.
Relationships: no direct ship
Kudos: 9





	No Colors

**Author's Note:**

> If you didn't read the tags, huuge TW for depression, suicide attempt, and some undertones of agoraphobia.
> 
> I mainly used Doyoung's stage name here, but his given name is also implied.
> 
> This is also my first post here, still figuring this out. Hope you enjoy! & please if you're feeling depressed/anxious/whatever, don't be afraid to talk to someone. You aren't alone in your situation. Be kind to yourself.

Single tear ran down Doyoung's cheek. Carving it's wet rail through the hollow, sick-looking skin. Doyoung sniffed his nose - by now it was already a slight pink-ish toned. - Catching a cold was the least of his worries. Hwang Injoon had no worries for the first time in his over twenty years of living. 

The cold autumn wind playing with his dark hair, moving the loose hospital gown around. It was lazily wrapped around his body, too big for him. The ugly off-white colored fabric probably wasn't even washed before it was given to him. It smelled like medicine and bleach. Hints of blood and probably puke. - It was a rather useless piece of fabric with some broken seams and buttons. If possible it made the cold ice spikes of the wind worse. 

Doyoung's hair had gotten long. Stray and uneven strands now covering his eyes. (You could still see the dyed warm brown bits at the ends - they hadn't grown out yet.) Covering the world he wished to never see again. He absolutely hated it. He hated how happy the world looked. He hated how the world went on, as he was taken away from all the things he once cared for, leaving Doyoung into meaningless mourning. With absolutely nothing to keep him attached to the hellish place they called "earth". The colors were still there, so much so that it hurt his eyes, yet everything felt so cold and empty. At some point that would have made him irritated. But right now Doyoung felt empty. All sounds were gone. He was slowly losing his vision as the panic rised in his interior. Oncoming panic attack. If he wasn't so drugged, he would have screamed. The world scared him. But all his senses were stuffed from every single cell in his body, to his very core. - When the feeling had first hit him, he wondered if that was what stuffed animals felt like. He couldn't even chuckle at that. That moment he truly felt like he had lost every possible drop of humanity he had in himself. 

Was he really going to do this?

He let his legs give in. Embracing it and pressing his cheek to the cold metal pole - he let his heavy lids fall shut. Closing the scenery of a dark water running past him. Sulking away from the irrelevant colors. 

The trees standing there naked and sad, their leaves slowly molding in the ground. The green grass was slowly turning to a nasty green, glowing slightly from the tiniest fragment of sun that found itself through the clouds. Like the last drain of hope - more like encouragement to get this done. To get it over with. It has just rained. - It had rained the whole week. And the air was still damp, the smell of earth. - Petrichor. 

Realing himself back, Doyoung slowly stood up. Weak knees buckling themselves against the other. His hands took hold of the railing. It was painted red, seemingly years ago, the paint was flaking off. Sticking to his skin. Exposing the dark and rusty metal underneath. It was cold and it made Doyoung shiver, but it brought him a sense of comfort. It grounded him. But maybe just maybe the cold metal didn't help him calm down, it just made him more comfortable in the idea of ending his life. - Though a metal bridge having That ability would be stupid. Doyoung was really out of his mind.

Surely he wasn't going to climb over that thing, it was cold. But it wouldn't be that long right? It would be just a passing feeling before greater coldness would take his body to its lap, to cherish. It was all worth it in the end. Right? It would end all his shattered thoughts and empty promises. It would end his misery. - Doyoung liked that idea, he liked the comfort it gave him. 

Laying his eyes on the piece of paper that he had taped on the railing earlier. Should he really leave it there? His body would most likely float farther away, so the note had no use. - No. He shouldn't be overthinking this now. His chances were already running out.

Fuck him and his thoughts. Fuck his brain. Fuck everything his brain decided to process wrong to make him like this. Fuck everything the organic computer came to know of, it made Doyoung like this. 

Sudden sound pulled him off from his head. 

"Doyoung! There you are! Don't disappear on me like that!" Taeyong ran to him, trapping the boy around his arms. The sudden warmth sparkled a warm speck of color around him. His inner finally having a voice to speak after his consciousness was off guard. 

He was outside. He. Was. Outside for fuck's sake. The panic settled in. 

They stood like that for a while. Doyoung tried his best to ignore all the sounds and things he felt that reminded him, that he was still outside. Though Doyoung really did feel safe in those arms. He thought Taeyong could protect him from everything and anything. The world didn't seem so scary anymore. - or maybe it was all the drugs he took. The warmth against his freezing body felt good either way. "Geez, you're freezing! C'mon let's get you inside, the last thing I want is you to catch a cold," how ironic. Taking Doyoung's hand to his, Taeyong led him away from the red railing. His eyes looked at the taped note again, before ripping it off. It took a good bit of red paint with it. 

Today wasn't the day. Maybe tomorrow he will feel this bad again. Or worse. - if there was worse.


End file.
